An Emerald Amid the Kingdom of Gold
by Wing of Darkness
Summary: He dreams about it every night—The shimmering emerald standing out amongst the sea of gold. But with the rising plague on his land, he doesn't dwell on it. That was until a sorcerer with the most piercing green eyes was accused to be responsible for it and was sentenced to death. Thorki, Fandral/Loki, Slash R&R please! :
1. Green Rose

**READ AND REVIEW PLEASE! THOSE THINGS NEVER FAIL TO INSPIRE AN AUTHOR!**

**ON WITH THE STORY! ENJOY!**

**TITLE****:**

**An Emerald Amid the Kingdom of Gold**

**Complete Summary:**

**He dreams about it every night—The shimmering emerald standing out amongst the sea of gold. But with the rising plague on his land, he doesn't dwell on it. That was until a sorcerer with the most piercing green eyes was accused to be responsible for it and was sentenced to death. He thinks the sorcerer is innocent. He doesn't know why. No matter what the consequences will be, he will try with everything in his power, to stop the execution. **

**Slash: ThorXLoki (Thorki), FandralXLoki **

**=0000=**

**-CHAPTER ONE-**

**GREEN ROSE**

Here he was again. In this dream. The dream that had been following him for the past days. The one where he was alone in the forest of this majestic land. The very land he will soon rule over once the King, his father, passes down the throne.

Surrounded by the trees with it's golden fruits, even among all that, what catches his eyes was the sole emerald shining through the thick bushes. It reflects the light of the moon, making it all the more noticeable in the darkness of the night. The jewel was beautiful as it sat on its own throne with all its unique glory. He began to move for he was tempted to touch it but his steps were heavy, almost like he was carrying several pounds of sacks on his ankles. He ignored the weight and painstakingly carried on.

The emerald was meters away from him. Despite the fact that he was sweating as he treaded over to the precious stone, with sheer determination he finally came to stand before it. There were thorns on the bushes and there was no other way to get the gem. Without caring about the wounds it will inflict on him, he holds out his hands to reach for it.

But as always, there was a sudden bolt of fire that struck the bushes in a direct force. He stumbled backwards when the fire blazed angrily at him.

He could still see the emerald remaining on its spot, without even a slightest damage to it. The burning bushes seemed to be protecting the jewel with all their thickness and solid power.

He closed his eyes when the poisonous gas attacked him. His lungs were filled with black smoke and he started to cough the ashes out of his system. He stepped backwards and staggered his way to find cover. Leaning on a thick trunk that was wide enough to protect him from the fire, he breathed in as much fresh air as he could. He could taste the dew of the night and it was an extreme relief from the horrible dirt that was clogging his breathing.

The fire slowly died down by itself. As if by magic, it dissipated in the serenity of the night. He straightened up and a fragrant breeze passed by. The scent wasn't recognizable but he could tell it's from a rare kind of flower. And then something black and silky whispers the slightest of touch to his neck; a cold breath following.

He turned abruptly to chase for the movement.

Nothing was there.

As he kept on waiting and concentrating for even the smallest shift in the bushes, his eyes landed back to where the gem was. Where it was _supposed _to be.

But it was now gone.

xXOOOXx

He feels a longing he couldn't decipher and it was making his heart wrench in pain. Every time he wakes up from that dream, it seems that there was a part of him that's missing. It was strange. It was frustrating. It was…ultimately confusing. Never had he felt so incomplete and hurting. Considering it may even symbolize a weakness in him, he would certainly not admit to himself if ever he were starting to be scared of this strange dream.

It was as if a warning of some sort—a view of the future. He would ask the help of a scholar to interpret it but doing so would force him to tell the whole story of his dream; and sharing that knowledge to another individual makes it all the more real.

He shook his head and brought his palms to rub his face.

"Thor!" The bright face of his brother greeted him as he barged into the room, without knocking and without any caution.

Thor groaned, flopping back to his pillow with a dramatic thud. He tried to grab his pillow to cover his face and the noise his brother was making, but before he could do so, the younger of the two snatched it with an impossible vibrant vigor.

"Ohh..! Brother, Brother, Brother… Have you forgotten about our arranged journey today?" The younger unceremoniously smashed Thor's face with the stolen cushion in an attempt to suffocate him playfully.

"Fa—mmmph! St—mmh—op!" Thor was helplessly growling under the attack of the pillow.

However, with a strong twist of his big body, he tackled out of his brother's half attempt to kill him and caught the younger man's cape. The other man felt the unexpected tug and fell forward instead when he failed to wrench out of the grip.

"Ahh..ckk…!"

"Fandral! How many times do I have to tell you, waking me so _sweetly_ like that is going to get you a nice, warm welcome?" Thor said sarcastically, catching himself not to shake his head and add more pain to his throbbing brain. "You should be thankful I never aim on your face." He side glanced and snorted.

Fandral rolled off the bed and instantly stood in front of his brother.

"I know you love me and all the things that I _do._" Fandral said with a big smile on his face.

The man never seemed to have dark moments for he always have that kind of grin plastered on his face every single day. Although he's the kind of prince that is way too rebellious for the King's own good, never did Odin show any dislike on his second son. He's only a year younger than Thor but his behavior reflects the actions of an unruly adolescent. Thor's also not an exception though. The heir to the throne has his moments as well.

"What are we supposed to do today again?" Thor asked, clearly not remembering about the planned trip.

"A climb on the mountains to gather some small, delicate flowers." The younger sang.

Fandral saw the look on his brother's face and felt the automatic rolling of his eyes.

"We're going hunting!" He paused, thinking of what he said. "We're going to investigate what's causing the death of our beasts."

After a moment he commented, "I can't believe you actually thought we're going to pick some flowers."

Thor didn't react to his brother's comment but pondered on the issue their kingdom was currently facing. The situation was still being controlled despite the fact that flock growers were beginning to struggle in protecting their animals from an unknown plague. The beasts have started getting diseases from unfamiliar sources. No matter how many times they've checked for the cause, they still come empty handed.

At first they thought, the wild creatures from the forest were the ones who brought the infection. Hunters were called to bring some of their catches and all of those animals were observed and tested in the Philosopher's Laboratory. Even the most prestigious scholars weren't able to detect anything from them aside from the proof that the poor beasts also land on the same predicament.

Hunting was stopped for the meantime. Because of that, there was a huge loss in market resources for fresh meat. There were also some people who have reached their complaints to the King. But the Royal family's decision was firm. Before this entire rising predicament was solved, no one was allowed to hunt in the forest.

"If you're thinking about Father's words about not going in the forest….again," He sighed exasperatedly, "I will go by myself. And you," He pointed at his older brother. "—will not stop me."

"Have you prepared the horses?" Thor asked without looking at his brother.

Fandral smirked. "Of course. I'll just grab our bag of food from the galley and we're good to go."

Thor stood now and finally turned to face his brother. He tapped the younger man's shoulder and walked towards his personal bathing room, grabbing a towel on the way.

It was still dawn and the skies outside seem reluctant to reveal the coming morning. Clouds hovered the horizon, covering the brightness that was soon to arrive. There were no birds yet cluttering the sky and the purple dim light was the only color dominating what was above.

When Thor got inside the bathing room, it was the only time he felt his surprise about his brother's loud wake up call not rousing other people from sleep. But then again, his younger brother was known for his lithe but snake like movement. –Agile when attacking, but whispering before the launch.

xXOOOOXx

Thor and Fandral decided to tread separate routes. It was for the best despite the unknown danger. If they had gone, both with their heavy footfalls and massive bodies, they would surely be successful in scaring the lingering beasts. They had built up their forms to their strengths and the only disadvantage from that was the obviousness of it. Their speed didn't falter, but their footsteps will not come unheard by keen ears. Thus, having to go individually.

Thor took the West and Fandral the East.

The forest has an immense beauty and mystery in itself.

The green, hulking trees. The thick roots, twisted vines, wild plants.

And the living creatures sheltering themselves within the protection of the woods. That was, until the situation changed.

The beasts themselves were now somehow afraid of the forest. Yes it was ironic the way they cling to the only sanctuary they know. But nowadays they just seemed detached from each other. Like it was a nature against nature kind of war.

…

Fandral had been itinerant around the thick greeneries. There were creatures occasionally roaming around the cluttered earth, but then as soon as they surfaced, they dug themselves in time to hide from strange presences. That didn't alarm him. As much as he understood how small things protected themselves from predators, it was part of their instinct to act accordingly.

However, in the hours he's been wandering about, there were no beasts large enough to be a potential catch that stumbled upon his sight. He made sure to stay focused and alert, nevertheless, the absence of wild screeches and growling mammals was starting to frustrate his hunter's instincts. Not a single hint of huge bodies ticked his attention.

He checked for the small duffel bag he brought with him and realized he had ran out of water. His food was still intact, except for two apples that once occupied a space in his sack. He realized it was almost lunchtime by the way the sun peeked through the leaves of the trees with stronger, warmer rays.

Without much consideration about the rustles he will make, he stood up from his position and focused on listening for the nearest source of water. He walked through a thick patch of broken branches and unkempt shrubs when he heard the faint sound of splashing.

_A lake…_ Fandral smiled to himself.

As he began to trace for the sound, he thought about how his brother was fairing at the other side of the forest.

…

A wide opening led the way to the lake. The line of trees stood about five meters apart from each other, appearing like curtains set aside to reveal an exhilarating view.

Fandral finally arrived and thanked the gods it wasn't too far from where he had been staying although the walk had obviously drained the remaining water in his body. He was now eager to refill his leather flagon and was about to fetch some of the clear liquid, only to stop before having the chance to do so.

The water splashed on the other end of the lake. Graceful ripples danced on the surface. There were no sounds that came after but only of the fluid motion marring the bluish liquid.

Someone was bathing, Fandral realized.

Not long after, he saw a pile of green and black clothing neatly folded on top of a chopped trunk. He couldn't tell if they were of male garments or female robes. That was until the palest of forms emerged from the water.

The person's figure was slender and the way the total contrast of dark hair reached the slim shoulders, Fandral immediately concluded the person was a maiden. But that thought stopped short when the 'maiden' now faced his direction. It didn't seem that the other was looking at him but at the location of where the linens sat.

Fandral knew it was wrong. He was already approaching the set of clothes before he even realized what he was doing. He wasn't planning on anything, but there was a glint in his eyes that projected the feeling of peculiar desire. It was the kind of desire that was not disgusting, but something along the lines of wanting to have some kind of connection with the stranger.

An interaction. That was it.

He knew, by the time the most ethereal figure he had ever seen arose from the water, that _the person _was male. The thought didn't bother him.

The growing anticipation and adoration didn't make him panic.

The man didn't completely get out of the water and began to reach for his clothes while brushing his hair to the side, not really looking. Once he noticed the absence of his clothes, an odd feeling came to his insides.

Someone was watching him.

With the faintest of sound that was impossible to be heard, he lifted his left arm and murmured ancient words to create a sharp dagger with his hand.

At the next moment, there was a clang of ice blade against sword that echoed. The man's eyes easily connected with the smiling gaze of the blonde warrior. He was instantly confused and retreated, causing a dance of waves through the water.

Fandral held the folded linens on his left hand as if he was carrying a tray of food. The smile stayed on his face. Strange as it is, he found something amusing about the other man's reaction.

Was he scared?

Although by his stance, scared wasn't the right word. But more of wary.

The stranger wasn't speaking and Fandral was always the one to break the silence.

"A beauty in the middle of the forest. Bathing alone. And a magic-wielder at that." Fandral's smile widened further. "It is a strange but fortunate chance." He cast down his sword and flawlessly slid it back to its sheath.

"Are you one with no voice to speak with?" The politeness overflowing in his royal language surprised him. He was so used to speaking casually to almost everyone, spare his father and mother that he didn't think he would use it in coaxing the pale stranger into talking with him. With an improper way of saying what he just asked, it might have sounded offending.

"I am most certainly one of the blessed ones who can speak more than one _languages_."

Fandral almost gasped at the bright jade orbs looking back at him. Earlier, those glistening pools were black. He didn't show his surprise though and instead chuckled.

The magic-wielder gave him a confused look. The beautiful face displaying the slightest of twitches.

"Your spells are what you speak of, are they not? I would love to witness that again…" He paused, moving to offer the clothes he'd been carrying. "Of course, in a less violent approach." His eyes were laughing. The stranger seemed to notice this and softened his own expression.

He slowly moved towards the shore of the lake and reached for his clothes with snowy, lean arms. Fandral caught one of his wrists gently.

"Please do not shy away from me." The blonde man leaned forward and pressed his lips onto the soft hand. Fandral looked up when the other man controlled himself from snatching his hand back. "I am called Fandral. It would be most gracious of you to tell me of your name."

This time, the blonde prince let go of the hand, albeit reluctantly. The sorcerer must probably be panicking inside his mind for encountering a persistent stranger and in the most unexpected place.

"Loki." -Was all the other said before giving him a look he couldn't quite comprehend.

He realized half of the pale man's body was still immersed in water and the look meant that he needed some privacy to wrap himself with clothes. Fandral straightened up and gestured for Loki to do his bidding before turning away without uttering a word.

_Loki…_ The name itself was uncommon. But the uniqueness of it matches extravagantly with its owner.

"What has brought you here, _Your Highness_?"

Fandral wasn't able to stop the flinch his body made by the mention of his status. He couldn't help but be surprised for he made sure to wear a commoner's guise.

"I saw the sheath of your sword. They carry the royal markings. It is no doubt a precious belonging in the kingdom's armory." Loki said once Fandral faced him.

"A beauty and a clever one." The blonde prince laughed, shaking his head. "I never thought I'd meet a jewel in the middle of this forsaken forest."

There was that beautiful expression again. One that he was instantly beginning to be fond of. He stood in front of Loki and brushed feather-like touches on the other's cheek. Despite the wary gaze those eyes looked at him, he didn't move away.

He was about to ask where the sorcerer lives and if he will be permitted, he would want to go—but the booming voice of his brother impeded him. He turned sharply to where the calling came from. Surely, his brother wouldn't be able to shout as loud as that? He was practically on the other side of the woodland.

But there came the voice again. And he could tell now that the echoes were responsible for the sound reaching his ears.

He turned back to Loki who seemed to have moved away when he was listening to his brother and was now approaching with his leather flagon plump with water. He gave the pale man a look of uncertainty.

"Do not worry. This water is cleansed for I purified it with magic. I realized you came here to get some water."

"Thank you." Fandral said as he reached for the container.

"If you are to return to this forest, I'll make sure not to touch the water."

"No. There's no need. You have the freedom to bathe in the water, as it is not solely mine. It is for everyone who lives in this land." Fandral smiled.

A smile formed on the sorcerer's lips and the blonde prince almost didn't want to go to his brother; whatever is the reason for his calling.

"A prince to be admired. This kingdom will not perish even with the current plague."

The smile was still there but the eyes turned sad.

Fandral was fast to tilt the sorcerer's head to face him. They looked directly into each other's eyes.

They were strangers mere minutes ago and by the way they exchange those meaningful gazes, there seem to be an understanding—an instant connection.

"Burden not, for I, along with my brother, will not let anything destroy our beloved kingdom."

xXOOOOXx

Thor patiently waited for his brother.

He had shouted at the top of his lungs and hoped that the echoes would carry his voice to where his brother was.

He was kneeling in front of a gigantic lion, lying dead on the ground with a gaping hole in its blood caked chest. From the appearance of the enormous wound, the heart looked to be directly ripped out and crushed. The beast also had dark black spots scattered all over its body.

And there was a green rose placed just beside the head of the lion. It seemed to have been frozen before for there were sparkling liquid that served as its bed.

**xXOOOOXx**

**A/N: Hi guys! I know you still don't know me but I just submitted a story about Thor and Loki in here entitled, "I Will Be the Sky to Your Earth". It still hasn't gained reviews (except for the lovely person who gave me one. 3) and I am hoping this time, this story will be noticed. Ehehehehe….**

**I am not the type to completely base my stories purely on the original theme and plot of the movie I'm making a fan fiction with. Thus, the reason to why I am submitting another story that will not mainly focus on the Thor movie idea.**

**I hope you find this interesting. Sorry if I focused on Fandral here on the first chapter. But then again, he's one of the pairings so….yeah. He can't be ignored in here. **

**Also, I would really appreciate reviews! And comments! Basically, I base my decision to update according to reviews I receive. Yep…because I just feel soooo sad when I post something and people do not find my writing that worth it. **

**Sorry…self-pitying here. Anyway! If you read this, I still thank YOU. **


	2. The Face of the Dream

**READ AND REVIEW PLEASE! THOSE THINGS NEVER FAIL TO INSPIRE AN AUTHOR!**

**ON WITH THE STORY! ENJOY!**

**(Author's Note at the End)**

**TITLE****:**

**An Emerald Amid the Kingdom of Gold**

**Complete Summary:**

**He dreams about it every night—The shimmering emerald standing out amongst the sea of gold. But with the rising plague on his land, he doesn't dwell on it. That was until a sorcerer with the most piercing green eyes was accused to be responsible for it and was sentenced to death. He thinks the sorcerer is innocent. He doesn't know why. No matter what the consequences will be, he will try with everything in his power, to stop the execution. **

**Slash: ThorXLoki (Thorki), FandralXLoki **

**=0000=**

**-CHAPTER TWO-**

**THE FACE OF THE DREAM**

Behind the thick shrubberies, he was there.

Silent and patiently waiting.

Those jade orbs almost camouflaging with the green surrounding him.

His expression was sad as he watched. He couldn't take it. But he also couldn't make himself turn away as he witnessed the suffering. The sight was just heartbreaking and yet it was also confusing him to no end.

Since he had noticed the symptoms long before the plague had progressed for the worse, he never stopped searching for the cause of the disease. He had rummaged the whole of his library every single day in the hopes of stumbling upon a book that would tell him how to stop this. His spell books, the kingdom's history, the ancestral enchantments and even the elven myths held no information concerning this unexplainable outbreak.

His eyes began to water. A sob escaped his lips.

Suddenly, there was the sound of panicked screech. Few moments after an agonized howl, the loud thud followed.

Pale hands covered the thin, red lips in an attempt to stop its trembling. The tears never fell down but now his cheeks were splashed with rosy color due to the overwhelming emotions he was trying to control.

Without hesitation, he moved towards the fallen beast in graceful strides.

The beast was of a very large kind of ox. One that could only be found and bred in their kingdom. Nowadays, you could rarely see these creatures loitering the whole of the forest. Unlike in the past, when this plague has yet to touch their land, this breed were all over the place—alive, powerful, and a pride of the Wild. Now, they were but a slowly receding bloodline of battered and sickly animals.

He knelt down in front of the Ox's massive chest and gently laid his hand on the creature's tattered muscle, full of black spots due to the illness' poisoning. The animal was still breathing. But surely with that kind of grunting and moaning, it was as if asking for a more merciful death by the hand of his founder. The Ox was in pain even as it was lying on the ground.

He could see it.

He can feel the hurt.

For the hand that he had placed upon the beast was currently receiving all the vibrations of agony. It was so that, somehow, he could end its suffering without the overwhelming memory of being in pain.

Ancient words escaped his lips like the smooth breeze of cold wind. The sound coming from his mouth was a song of spell for the guidance of the soul. There was no melody. There was only sincerity as the spell ended with a promise.

A promise for the spirit's peace.

He opened his eyes to observe the barely breathing animal. The pain it was feeling subsided and the Ox's eyes glimmered with unshed tears. Brown, dilating orbs looked at the bright green ones.

He understood the message.

It was time for its rest.

Breathing in, he pulled back his right arm. Without the aid for words and only his concentration, bluish green light glowed in his palm before directly charging it right through the beast's chest. He felt for the weak beating heart and clutched it wholly with his spell-gloved hand. In the next moment, he had cleanly pulled it out and crushed it before the dark viral substance had the chance to spill its poison through the air.

His hands were shaking as he stared at the blood dripping from his pale skin. Short gasps came from his lips.

He had to calm down. He should not be like this.

If every time he was going to do this task he was going to suffer from tremors, he will not be able to carry on with his mission any longer. He has to compose himself. This plague is far from ending. And he has yet to discover what's behind this land's predicament.

Once his ragged breathing toned down, he raised his white palms over the dead beast's enormous head. There was a whisper of icy draught that came out of his lips and a green rose encased in quartz of ice slowly emerged.

"To remind you of the beauty…of eternal life." He spoke in his ancient language.

After carefully laying the crystallized rare flower beside the animal's head, the rustling of his cloak was the only sound he left as he treaded out of the woods.

He never sensed the owner of the wide eyes that have been watching him as he tore the heart out of the beast.

xXOOOXx

Heavy boot-covered soles echoed through the hallway. The juddering of wooden chair against the marble floor followed soon after. Those sounds weren't intentional but it can make any man shudder in annoyance.

Thor didn't have the chance to cover his ringing ears as his younger brother flumped ungraciously on the chair next to him, causing yet another agonizingly eerie sound on their floor. The expensive surface must have hurt and were now sporting unattractive scratches, much to the cleaning servants' dismay. The prince was sure to be saved from scolding.

Thor glared at his brother as soon as he sensed his face looking at him.

It stopped short though, for the expression Fandral had was of serious curiosity. Thor immediately felt like he'd been cornered.

"Is there something on my face?" Thor sounded horrible. He sounded tired.

Fandral seemed to have been surprised when his brother spoke. He straightened up and looked away.

"What is it that bothers you, my brother?" Now it was Thor who was curious. Earlier he thought Fandral was giving him a look to coax him of an explanation regarding his almost sleepless nights. But now, it seems that Fandral was having his own battles in his mind.

As if he had forgotten, he immediately shot a grin at his brother and waved his head.

"Nothing. Nothing's the matter." Fandral said in that usual vibrant tone of his. He sighed, still smiling.

The look on his face was almost dreamy. It was the total opposite of his façade beforehand.

"You are thinking of a woman, are you not?" Thor asked, one brow rising.

"A woman?" Fandral was a bit confused at that as he was thinking the exact opposite of the word. He couldn't help but blush at the memory of his encounter with the stunning sorcerer he met by chance in the forest.

Oh, it was a beautiful meeting. He would've been able to know the mysterious man more if his brother hadn't shouted for his presence at the other side of the woodland.

"Yes." Thor paused. "Why is it that you suddenly sound so uninterested with the mere mention of the word?" It was the older prince's turn to be confused.

He had known his younger brother to bed almost all the fair maidens in their kingdom, even exceeding him having only a few encounters with women that he had simply conceded with to bed. His appetite for physical pleasures could not be compared to his younger brother's unending vigor when it comes to intimate interactions.

Fandral opened his mouth to tell of his happenstance with the sorcerer but instantly caught himself. He remembered his first meeting with Loki was still a sensitive topic for they barely had the time to really get to know each other. For this little information to be shared before it could even form a story, it might break further chances for their encounter and so he decided he would keep it a secret first.

"When are we going to visit the forest again?" He asked instead.

Thor buried his face in his palms. He could just about hear their father's outbursts when the King found out about their clandestine journey to the restricted forest. If it weren't for Fandral's carelessness to go straight to his room with his boots still covered with grime from the woods and a bit of the darkened blood he seemed to have carried from the grave of the beast to their palace, the servants wouldn't have thought to report it. Thor himself had stopped outside of their fort to wash away the mud and dirt but before he could even tell his brother to do the same, the younger man seemed to have been preoccupied and thoughtlessly went back to his chambers.

"I will no longer hear you ask of that again." Thor said before gulping down a goblet serving of honey tea. It was cold now as it had been about an hour since he took great interest in staring at it the moment it was handed to him.

He himself had been preoccupied these days. Even before they had that adventure and discovery in the forest. The _dream_ was still accompanying him every time he sleeps. Even more so, recently, that same dream was haunting him and making him feel emotions he couldn't quite comprehend. And it was getting more and more frustrating.

It was tiring.

He doesn't know if he was just stubborn but still, he couldn't bring himself to blurt it out to someone—much less, one of the scholars. For he knew what would happen. He would just be the center of intrigue. The Philosophers might even come up with a number of theories that would surely arise more questions than answers.

So…no. He will definitely solve this by himself.

"Why? Just because I left a dirt trail throughout the hallway of the palace?!" Fandral rolled his eyes.

"No." Thor glared at him. But he only looked grimly tired as he faced his brother. "_Just_ because you were thinking of something else other than the safety of our home." His voice was calm but the tone was firm.

Fandral snorted. He knew his brother have read something in his body language by the time they arrived back home that day. But for now, silence would be the better answer to avoid rousing questions.

xXOOOXx

The _dream_.

Again.

He didn't know when he fell asleep and where.

He was only aware that right now, moist weeds and damp ground cluttered with dried leaves and broken branches surrounded his booted feet. The map of the forest was now fully familiar to him. He had been wandering throughout the dark vicinity ever since he became trapped in this befuddling dream. And every single time he was there, he would be treading the very same path to where he always spotted the jewel.

He walked not in silence but with only one goal.

Once he arrived in those exact bushes he visits each time he falls into this dream, he would stop and admire the stone. As if a moth attracted to a light, he would never waver reaching for the striking gem.

But this time, it's different. The dream seems to have changed.

There was no jewel glimmering in the moonlight. Only the shadowed thick bushes that always sheltered it.

Thor waited. He was confused.

_Where is the emerald stone?_

Hating to admit but fearing for the unknown, Thor looked around as he positioned himself in a fighting stance. He didn't know what else to do. He had no weapon to protect himself if indeed the dream changed and there was suddenly a beast ready to attack him at any moment. Or if the thunder would strike and burn him without precautions.

He was beginning to sweat. Heart starting to beat wildly in his chest. The unknown was suffocating.

And then he almost felt his heart jump out from his chest as a rustling started two trees away from the bushes where he was standing.

The sounds continued. The eerie silence of the night echoing the swishes of thrashing and whimpering…

_Whimpering…?_

Thor bolted to a run to approach whatever it was that was in distress. The mumbled cried enough to throw any hesitations shouting at his mind not to go.

_It might be trick…_

_It might be a beast trying to lure a victim…_

_It might also be…_

"A person?" Thor heard himself say.

He was shocked for a moment. Never was he able to utter a single murmur in this particular dream. Even when those thunder strikes had lashed out on his skin, he knew he was shouting but there were no sounds coming out from his mouth.

To hear his own voice now was another addition to the confusion and mystery.

There was rustling again coming from behind the bushes. And he didn't miss the bare white legs immediately hiding behind the thick hedging.

The whimpering continued.

"Hey…" Thor started unsurely, still unaccustomed to being able to speak in this dream. "I will not hurt you." He continued as he approached carefully and slowly.

"I am here to help." He murmured, as if wheedling a child to come to his arms. "Come on. I bring no danger."

There was rustling again.

Long, snow-white fingers peeked out from the bushes.

Thor patiently waited. Unsure himself if this was going to be a trap.

Slowly a face emerged.

Thor's eyes widened.

The face couldn't be real. The figure the completely surfaced from the dark weeds was like a dream itself.

The strangeness.

The mystifying aura around him.

But…it was of _beauty_ no one could ever compare.

Thor's throat was dry. The spell of having a voice seeming to have dissipated into the night.

The young man reached out to him. And Thor smelled it. He embraced the smell and judiciously held the slender pale figure as if he would break within his own hulking body.

The smell was like no other. But he knew that smell. The smell of a rare flower.

The man looked up at him and he was demanded of attention as the cold touch charmed him to face the other.

He was in shock again for he was directly looking at the exact same jewel he'd been trying to reach and understand for several days of unending misperception. And through the eyes of this mysterious unearthly beauty.

"Help me…" It seemed gusts of wintry breath caressed his face. And he missed the words the man in his arms whispered to him.

_Help me…_

**xXOOOXx**

**A/N:**

**Phew! SO yeah, finally I was able to update! YAY! Hurray for me! **

**Thank you. Thank you. Thank you!**

**For the reviews, follows, and faves!**

**Hope you don't get disappointed with the update. I wasn't supposed to write it today since I've been depriving myself of sleep BUT I just felt like I needed to release the second chapter!**

**It was a good thing my mind worked up the story for the second chapter without any plans and all. I really hope it worked well. .**

**I also hope you weren't confused about the dream and such? **

**I don't have beta and I'm kind of sleepy now….so if there are mistakes, please do ignore them. Ahehehehe. **

**REVIEWS ARE LOVED! MWAH! **


	3. The Burning

**READ AND REVIEW PLEASE! THOSE THINGS NEVER FAIL TO INSPIRE AN AUTHOR!**

**ON WITH THE STORY! ENJOY!**

**(Author's Note at the End)**

**TITLE****:**

**An Emerald Amid the Kingdom of Gold**

**Complete Summary:**

**He dreams about it every night—The shimmering emerald standing out amongst the sea of gold. But with the rising plague on his land, he doesn't dwell on it. That was until a sorcerer with the most piercing green eyes was accused to be responsible for it and was sentenced to death. He thinks the sorcerer is innocent. He doesn't know why. No matter what the consequences will be, he will try with everything in his power, to stop the execution. **

**Slash: ThorXLoki (Thorki), FandralXLoki **

**=0000=**

**-CHAPTER THREE-**

**THE BURNING**

Thor had been pacing around his chamber by the time he woke up. He was too immersed in his thoughts that he wasn't aware he had already missed breakfast. It was so unlike him to miss that meal of the day and so his mother, the Queen Frigga, had even visited him personally in his room. She was carrying a tray full with a loaf of rye bread, two kinds of cheese, and a selection of cold cuts. Another servant trailed behind her, holding the whole pitcher of freshly squeezed grapes and goblet on her other hand.

"Thor?" Frigga's voice was evident with worry.

The blonde heir stopped in his steps and turned his head towards his mother. There was surprise in his expression.

"Mother? What are you doing here?"

Frigga waved her head and strode over to the spot he has yet to leave. The queen lifted her arm and gently laid the back of her hand on her son's forehead. She sighed, brows furrowing.

"You're sweating cold, my dear." She murmured.

She turned to the servant. "Brew him some tea from the leaves I've gathered from the garden this morning."

The servant bowed and left, slowly closing the door of Thor's room.

"I'm fine mother." Thor said as he was guided to sit back on his bed. Frigga only smiled at him and silently approached the table where she laid the tray of food. Thor was about to stand up and help her but she was fast to gesture him to stay where he was.

"If you are going to attempt lying to someone, that person isn't me. And I can see clearly that you are bothered by something." She paused when Thor looked away. "And you will tell me what has you preoccupied after eating this breakfast." She took the plate, put a bit of everything that she brought before handing it to her son.

Thor began to eat. But he chewed slowly as if he was still in deep thought.

With three slices of rye bread, some bits of cheese and cold cuts left on the tray, Frigga knew for sure that something is terribly bothering her son. If he were in his normal condition, he wouldn't miss going down to the dining hall to join them in the morning meal. He would dig into his food and would even have a second helping of it.

Hearing the last clang of the silver utensils and the dull thud of the porcelain cup filled with the fresh tea earlier, Thor wiped his mouth with a red cloth his mother had provided him.

No matter how much he tried to prolong the moment, he knew Frigga wouldn't leave his room without even coaxing the smallest information as to what was worrying him.

He met his mother's stare.

Still, he couldn't bring himself to talk about his most recent dream.—Or any of those dreams he had been having.

"I'm just thinking for solutions that may help stop the plague in our land." Thor said.

Frigga only looked at him. She was waiting.

"This current situation is really worrying me, mother. Our people's flocks are dying. We are losing the beasts in our forests." Thor may have just found the perfect topic for him to avoid talking about his nightmares. But could he actually call it _a _nightmare? In fact, the issue their kingdom was facing deserved more attention than that of his confusing dream. Nevertheless, the face that so clearly appeared in his vision in the middle of his sleep felt more real than any other plague he was supposed to be finding solutions for.

But that scent of a rare flower…

He could still smell it.

That face…

The slender figure that seemed to be covered by the moon itself.

His skin was almost luminous white. The magical creature glowed beneath the dark bushes that covered his bare body.

And the sensation as he had put his arms around Thor's neck, the Asgard heir would never deny how good it felt—how the soft skin engulfed him in an almost desperate embrace. The fragrance around him that time was intoxicating.

_Thor…_

"—or…"

Thor's vision suddenly warped into the interior of his room.

"Thor?" His mother repeated for the tenth time. She had been calling his name while he had been trapped in that trance again.

He shook his head and rubbed his face with his palms. By the time he let go of roughly massaging his face, his skin was red. There was a small stinging as his calloused hands left his cheeks but the feeling kept his consciousness to the present.

"I think you need to rest in your chambers for now." His mother decided.

"No. I need to visit the flocks. I need to che—"

"You will only make our people worry if you come out in that state. Your younger brother will handle that arrangement alone for today." She cut off.

Without so much as any hint that she would be listening to her son's protests, she turned away, gathering the tray with the leftovers and didn't even bother asking for the servant's presence to help her carry it out of Thor's room.

**xXOOOXx**

Fandral had been frustrated for the past week when the King had ordered for him to stay within the palace. At first, the punishment for having secretly gone to the forest was supposed to last four days maximum. But because of his brash mouth and annoyingly persistent attitude, asking his father to let him go back to the forest as soon as possible, the King's patience took its toll and decided to prolong his punishment instead. So when his mother entered his room, he thought he had seen an angel.

"Mother!" Fandral strode towards her and gave her an embrace.

"Oh!" Frigga was out of balance for a second but her younger son leveraged their stance.

He let go of her and was sporting an expression as that of when he was a little boy, excited to see his mother and waiting for the news of a new adventure. The Queen couldn't help but return the vibrant smile her son was giving her.

"Were you tortured not being able to go out of the palace?" She whispered, her teasing voice evident. It was the kind of tone she had always used on Fandral when he was being an overexcited little man ready to pop out a ball of energy.

"Ah…You wouldn't understand. Father still treats me like the boy he used to chase around in the field whenever I sneak out." He waved his head. The memory had actually been the most hilarious image his mind can conjure.

The mighty King of Asgard running in his complete golden armor, chasing the annoying brat of his in the middle of the field. Odin had been breathless by the end of the pursuit, clutching the collar of his son's leather shirt. And the way he was glaring at his youngest was half-hearted. He looked more like he was going to cry rather than be mad at his son. What was more surprising was that he always laughed like he had just played a game with the princeling. And together they would go back to the palace smiling to each other.

"Come on now, darling. I have news for you." Fandral brightened up at this.

Frigga led her son to sit on the blue velvet couch beside the vanity.

"Thor isn't quite himself today and I told him you would be attending to the flock owners. Would it be alright with you, my son?"

Fandral smiled. "Of course, mother." There was a glint in his eyes that the Queen didn't miss. She waved her head. She always knew what was behind that expression.

"If you really need to go…there…" Frigga whispered the last word. "Please be careful. I will give you a vial. Drink it before you leave. I don't want you catching any illness."

"Yes, mother." The second of the princes had a wide grin plastered on his face by now.

The Queen stood and was heading for the door. She paused, as she was about to leave.

"Just a reminder Fandral. Please do clean your boots before entering the palace."

"I will."

He could hear the laughter of his mother behind his closed doors. When the sound of her footsteps along the corridor finally faded into the distance, he started to prepare for the day's agenda. He had been cooped up inside their home for the past seven days and there was no way he's going to deny how excited he was to be able to go out once again.

Even more so, there was someone that never left his thoughts.

_Loki…. we're going to meet again._

**xXOOOXx**

For the whole week, one boy has observed the pale figure of the sorcerer that's been visiting the forest. For the same week, that same boy had witnessed similar actions from the stranger. He was terrified by the unusual way this particular individual had been killing the beasts. At first the boy thought, he was only hunting. But for the past few days he'd been taking the lives of the wild animals, he never once brought one of the corpses home. If he'd been a desperate hunter looking for fresh meat, he would not be finicky about his prey nor would he just leave it to rot on the ground.

The boy hid behind the bushes. He was trained a spy and he was very good at his job. He was able to prove his skill because the sorcerer didn't seem to act as if he could sense someone watching him.

The sorcerer eventually left after his routine ministrations.

When the boy saw the stranger was far enough, he stood up silently from his position and decided to finally investigate the left corpse.

The first thing he noticed was the black circular marks scattered all over the bison's skin. The blood pooling around the beast continued to flow from the huge hole in its chest where the heart had been ripped out. The job was clean. No bits of flesh were scraped off aside from the heart and the muscle of the chest. If it were any other hunter, there will be a messy pile of torn bits of flesh cluttering the ground.

The boy picked up the frozen green flower. The crystalized blossom was starting to melt. He turned it and was curious as to how it was possible a green rose would exist in their realm. Even in the most horrible winter, this particular bud would never have the chance to grow in their kingdom. It just weren't meant to live in this place.

He carefully wrapped the flower in white linen and placed it inside his bag. Since it was crystallized, he was a bit assured that the plant wasn't affected with whatever infection the animal had. Looking around, he left the forest as silently as he had entered it.

The boy might've been a spy, but he had only focused his attention on the sorcerer. His senses missed the cowering figure of a scared young hunter who had just witnessed the way the sorcerer had ended the beast's life.

For a young man who has never seen this kind of action aside from slitting the throat or the sight of arrow penetrating the animal's flesh, even as a hunter, the situation of their struggling land and personal desperation built up a conclusion in his mind.

This plague.

The dead beasts. The very unusual sight of this magic-wielder.

The young man shivered. And a sudden surge of anger bubbled inside him.

He now knew who was to blame for the hardships and sickness the people were experiencing.

The kingdom would now be able to stop this plague.

They just have to execute the _sorcerer_.

There was a sneer that curved up his lips. He could not believe it. He had found the solution to stop their realm's predicament. How could the other villagers not have thought of this before? He knew sorcerers who only cared about their witchcrafts and weird chants could never be trusted. They were but lures to misfortunes. They were unnecessary beings—untrustworthy and curse itself upon their land.

He was laughing right now. An ugly façade making him look like a deranged person dimmed his face.

He would tell the whole town of this discovery.

_The sorcerer should die._

_We'll kill him…_

_He would be offered to Valhalla. _

_My family will survive the plague…_

_Then __**this **__would all be over._

He kept chanting it inside his head.

**xXOOOXx**

Loki was tired. He was trembling in sadness. This mission was killing him. Not because it was exhausting his strength and power but he couldn't bare to end the lives of those creatures any longer. Most of them had the potential to live for decades and yet because of the infections, their lives had been toned down to days of struggling and suffering. The only mercy they would be more than thankful for was to rest in peace and to never have to live with the plague again.

His hands and fingernails were covered with dried blood.

"I need to wash these…" He murmured to himself, rubbing the caked dirt off his skin.

Nearing his house, he whispered some spell beneath his breath and the invisible cloak [only he could see] dispersed into the cold breeze of the night. It was a barrier he had cast upon his home to protect it from any outsiders or potential robbers. For someone to stumble accidentally into his well hidden home, one was not sure if there might be dangers. Seeing as there were no signs of any presence aside from him, no footmarks to indicate there had been passersby or hunters while he was gone, Loki decided to rest his magic for the remaining hours of the day.

He was really exhausted. Drained. And the idea of sleep without having to let the flow of his magic carry on was very appealing.

He would finally have a goodnights sleep.

No one will disturb him.

No one will take interest in the brick house totally obscured within the darkness of the forest.

He will be able to replenish his energy…completely.

No power flowing for the night. There wouldn't be a depleted feeling when he wakes up.

Yes.

He was going to let go and fall into the arms of unconsciousness.

**xXOOOXx**

The smell of burning wasn't noticeable at first. He was too succumbed to the heavy drapes of sleep. He wasn't dreaming. He has never experienced such a thing in his whole life. Whether it was a curse for being a sorcerer or just the fact he didn't have any memory that lasted long enough to visit him in his sleep, he didn't know.

He ignored the slowly growing smell.

Maybe….he was finally dreaming. But what an odd thing to dream about.

Was it a glimpse of the past? A past he had long wanted to bury?

But no…this feels so real. The smoke was beginning to clog his throat. The heavy, contaminated gas was already choking him. Realization coming to his senses, he shot his eyes open. Bolting up from his bed, outside the window he rarely pays attention to; a huge blazing fire had already scorched the whole of his garden. The fire has already reached the house for there was sizzling that was crawling beneath his floorboards. Red orange glow peeked through the thin opening under his bedroom door.

Moving in utter haste but controlling himself from panicking, he went straight to his closet and pulled out a thick coat from it. He shrugged himself in the clothing and immediately gathered the animal skin also placed inside the cabinet. The precious thing was still wrapped up in brown paper binding and without further ado; Loki ripped all of them away to reveal the leather.

He swathed it around his body and aimed for his window, pummeling right through the glass pane.

After that, everything happened in slow motion as unwelcome and forgotten images flashed through his eyes. He didn't understand what was happening. One night he decided to skip cloaking protection magic on his house and this horrible disaster materializes.

He was confused.

There was no way he'd be able to charge up his power in an instant—not when he had intentionally blocked it from flowing in his system for one goddamned night. He cursed his own stupidity and carelessness. He should never have chosen this night to take a rest from all of _this_. How he thought it would've relieved him if he could just relax for a few hours before going back to his mission again. He had been wrong.

Feeling his body touch the ground in a bruising slam of muscle on earth, his vision blurred for several moments. Not long after, he fisted his hands and began welcoming back his power. It took longer than usual for the flow to warm up his veins.

And hearing a heavy metal clamp placed on his throat, his magic froze on its way to fully engulf his body. A hollow force paralyzed him from producing some spells. He could still move his frame but his voice felt trapped within the constraint of the thick metal necklace.

_People…. There are people…._

_Are they shouting? Why are they all looking down at me?_

Vibrations of chains slithering on the ground sounded in his ears.

_My magic. They've restricted my magic._

Panic started to rise in Loki's guts. His heart began pounding in his chest.

Two men hauled him on his feet. They were nothing short of brutal—curses and poisonous words accompanying their angry and crazed look.

"You worthless magician! You brought this curse upon our land!"

"Yeah! You are the being that has brought this plague in our flocks!"

"You should die!"

"Die!"

"Die!"

"Die!"

Loki couldn't process the others' screams of accusations.

He turned his gaze towards the people who kept on shouting their anguish and rage towards his existence.

"I didn't…" Loki's voice was cut off as a strong, hard blow met the back of his head. He felt the warm flow of his blood dripping from the opened skin and flesh before everything else seemed to flow in his subconscious.

The total blackness would be a great company but it seemed the anger of these people scared off that comforting chance to save him from feeling and hearing the pain. The state between oblivion and awareness was aggravating his suffering.

_They're going to take my life._

_Maybe they are right._

_Maybe I am the cause of this plague._

_Maybe stopping my existence will end this…_

_Maybe I will no longer remember the __**burning**__…_

_Nor see it…._

_Nor feel it…_

_Maybe…_

Loki was welcoming the idea of his death by the hands of these people.

"_**Will we ever see each other again?"**_ A sudden flash of memory hit him. The pain that suddenly rose up inside him was more than what he felt when the solid material had hit his head.

This felt raw. It was stronger. Like when you put salt on the wound, usually it stings so great the agony was blinding. But this memory was the kind of wound that had been closed for years. Or maybe he though it had been.

One thing he was sure, it was reopened. Everything felt fresh again. He didn't notice the tears running from his red-rimmed eyes. And something in his heart took a turn. His thoughts have changed.

_Help me…_ He whispered desperately in his mind.

_Help me…_

**xXOOOXx**

**A/N:**

**Oh yeah, finally I was able to update! YAY! **

**I want to apologize for the delay. Our Internet access went down for more than a week because of some construction workers destroying our lines. And well, I had been busy with my exams as well.**

**Hope this makes up for the **_**overdue **_**update. **

**And please, please, please do tell me what you guys think! I'd really love REVIEWS from you guys! **

**Oh and what do you think about the ending '**_**almost**_**' having the same words with the last chapter? Did it confuse you…? Or did it confirm some suspicions or anything? **

**Thanks! Thanks! **


End file.
